The Darkness Wept
by MoonytheMarauder1
Summary: When Sirius Black moves back into Grimmauld Place, his mother's portrait is quick to bring old insecurities to light. But Sirius is going to prove that he is different—and win back an old love in the process. Warnings for language, insecurity


**A/N: Hey y'all! This was written for Hogwarts. Prompts are below. :)**

**Arts and Crafts Task 1: Write about a portrait**

**Word Count: 3133**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Those rights go to JK Rowling.**

**Enjoy!**

Sirius Black tipped back his head and drained the last of his glass of firewhiskey, so used to the burn that he didn't even flinch. He felt on edge—trapped. It had been more than a decade since he last set foot in this house, and he was seething over the fact that he felt just as helpless in it as before.

It might not have been so bad, if it wasn't for _her_.

He shouldn't be so surprised, really. It was just like his mother to hang herself up on a wall, left to throw insults at anyone she considered unworthy to enter the house.

Sirius closed his grey eyes, feeling a headache coming on. She was nothing but paint and memory, he reminded himself. She couldn't touch him. She could only scream.

But oh, how her screams brought back memories—ones that had tortured him enough in Azkaban.

Sirius stood up to get another drink.

* * *

"Don't look at me like that, Moody! See you for the next meeting!"

Sirius waved enthusiastically at the retreating Order members from the doorway, then closed the door with a sigh. Alone again.

"_Filthy blood traitor! Shame of my flesh!"_

Sirius' hands balled into fists. _Almost_ alone.

Eyes blazing, he whirled around to face her. "Shut up, you old hag!" he snapped. "Like you would know filth if you saw it," he grumbled as he turned away. "Somehow, you could always stand looking in the mirror."

Walburga's pale face purpled, but she seemed surprised that he was responding to her instead of just shutting the curtains. She struggled to find words that weren't purely insults for a moment, before saying acidly, "You dare say that I've been soiled—I raised you, Sirius Black. I know the truth about you."

Her black eyes glittered with sick pleasure, and Sirius' stomach knotted. Putting on a familiar mask of bravado, he snorted. "You wouldn't know the truth if it danced naked in front of you doing the hula."

She didn't shriek as he expected her to—instead, she laughed. "Are you still denying it?" Her eyes darkened. "Everyone in that blasted Order knows that, deep down, you're just like the rest of us. It's what the rest of the world thinks, isn't it?"

Sirius felt ice flood his veins. He grit his teeth and stared defiantly up at her, feeling like he was fifteen years old again. "I was framed! I'm nothing like you."

She raised an elegant eyebrow, sitting back in the seat she had been painted onto. "Then tell me—why are you locked up in our ancestral home? Surely there are _other_ places that could keep you hidden?"

Sirius turned away. "I'm not going to suddenly develop the Black insanity," he growled, "no matter how much you wish I would. And no one in the Order thinks that, either."

Walburga's smile was poisonous. "Then why hasn't your halfbreed lover spared you a second glance?"

Sirius froze; his breathing turned shallow. Slowly, he turned to face his mother. "How did you know about that?" he asked harshly.

Walburga looked carelessly at her nails before answering. "You mean your… _unsavory_ infatuation? Regulus was always more observant than you gave him credit for."

Sirius balled his hands into fists. "Remus isn't _unsavory_. He's the best bloke that—Merlin, why am I trying to explain this to you?"

He marched to his room, ignoring the sounds of his mother's cackling. He preferred it when she was screaming at him.

Sirius shut the door of his bedroom with a bang, then threw himself onto the mattress. Conversations with his mother always left him feeling rattled and small—now he remembered why he picked fights with her so much.

Sirius groaned and dug his fingers into his dark hair. That woman always knew how best to get to him. The distance Remus had maintained from him since their reunion at the Shrieking Shack _had_ been bothering him. What they'd had during school had been good—Sirius was certain that they'd been in love. But then the war ruined everything by inviting betrayal and distrust into their lives, and Sirius didn't think that his old lover was ready to try again, or that he even wanted to.

Loneliness swept over him. His mother was right about one thing: Remus hadn't spared him a second glance since they had moved into Grimmauld Place.

Sirius groaned and clutched the bedside table, the solid surface helping to ground him. He wasn't sure what he was thinking, exactly—he hadn't had to make sense of his emotions in so long. It was disorienting now, trying to sort through it all.

Sirius buried his head into his pillow. He pushed his emotions away for now—there would be time to figure things out tomorrow. After all, it wasn't like he was going anywhere.

* * *

"Your werewolf hasn't been by this week," Walburga commented idly a month after her first true conversation with her only living son.

Sirius clenched his jaw. Before, that painting had portrayed her at her worst—when she was prone to rages and had a short fuse. Now, the manipulative woman Sirius had loathed so completely in his boyhood was back, staring down at him coolly whenever they were alone. Sirius didn't have any qualms with shutting out the banshee, but he couldn't bring himself to silence the woman when she was speaking so logically.

It was driving him mad.

"Remus has his own life," he shot back curtly. "And he isn't _my_ werewolf."

Walburga combed her fingers through her long, dark hair. "Then whose is he?"

Sirius closed his eyes. He wanted to respond, but he knew that if he did, he'd be locked in his room until James showed up on his broom—

No. No, she was a portrait, and he was thirty-four years old. She didn't have any sort of control over him anymore. And James… James was gone.

Sirius flinched at the memory. But he faced his mother, his tongue daring to snap out, "He doesn't _belong_ to anyone. And stop picking at him—at least he still has someone who loves him!"

He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth; Walburga had always pounced on any ammunition she could find, and she didn't disappoint this time.

"_Love him!_" she crowed. "You _love him_, do you? And how is that working out for you?" She laughed and settled back in her seat. "I told you before, Sirius. There is no love. You… you always did think you were better than us."

"I don't think I'm better than you. I know I'm better than you," he shot back.

Walburga rolled her eyes. "It doesn't make any difference. You should have abided by my laws. You'd be better off than you are now, that's for certain."

Sirius was startled into silence. He realized suddenly that she had a point—his life would be very, very different if he had obeyed her in his youth. He looked around the entrance hall with new eyes, taking in all the sleeping portraits of his ancestors, all of whom had done their best to make him feel inferior.

There hadn't been any love in their lives. They'd married and had children for duty's sake only, and the ones who had pursued happiness had been blasted off the family tree. He thought of the burn where his own face used to sit on the tapestry, and found that he couldn't decide whether he'd be any happier than he was now if he'd stayed at home.

"I made the right choice," he murmured hollowly. "I can't just… hurt people like you can."

They were weak words, and both Blacks knew it. Walburga didn't snatch up a victory, though; instead, her next words were almost sympathetic.

"Perhaps, morally, you believe you did. But your decision never benefited you, did it? You still lost everything."

Sirius didn't have an answer for that.

* * *

The next day, Remus found him nursing another drink, his dark eyes heavy.

The werewolf paused in the doorway. "Sirius? It's late. You should be asleep."

Sirius shrugged. "I'm not tired."

Remus stared at him for a minute, and Sirius was happy to stare right back. His former lover's age clearly showed, but those amber eyes were just as young as ever. There were more scars than Sirius remembered, which sent a pang of regret through him, but he was almost comforted by the familiarity of the way the other man stood. Remus self-consciously ran a hand through his greying hair, and Sirius closed his eyes. He missed him so much.

"Sirius? What's wrong?"

Sirius took a swig of his drink. "There's nothing wrong."

"Don't lie to me. I know you too well to fall for that, as you're very well aware."

Sirius sighed heavily. "I hate this house," he mumbled.

Remus' face softened. "I know. But it's for your own good, Sirius. If something were to happen to you—"

"Is it for my good?" Sirius asked suddenly, "or is it for yours?"

Remus gaped at him. "_What?_"

Sirius scowled at his glass. "Am I here because you want to protect me, or am I here because you don't want to look at me?"

Remus shook his head slightly. "Why would you… Of course this is for your protection."

Sirius scoffed. Really, he knew that it was unfair to ask Remus these questions. He was allowed to move on, to love someone other than Sirius—because _no one_ owned Remus Lupin. But it hurt, seeing him so close, and knowing that it was Sirius' fault they'd been torn to shreds made everything harder. If he had been able to trust Remus, they could have had a lifetime together.

"I meant… are you staying away to protect me, or because you can't stand the sight of me?" He needed to know. It was tearing him up inside.

Remus came over to the kitchen table and sat down slowly. "That's an interesting question," he mumbled.

Sirius' grip on his glass tightened. "You know what else is interesting? Me on the moon. Stop _stalling_, and just… just tell me the truth."

Remus' eyes were flitting around, landing on everything but him. Finally, he spoke. "I thought perhaps we should give each other some space."

Sirius clenched his jaw. "That's not an answer, Remus."

"I don't hate you, if that's what you're asking."

"You bloody well know what I'm asking."

Remus' breath caught in his throat as he struggled to find the words he wanted to say. "Everything… everything changed when James and Lily died. _I_ changed." Amber eyes met grey. "I'm not the same person, Sirius. I don't want you to expect me to be. I… I'm not entirely sure that I'm what you need."

Sirius opened and closed his mouth, his head spinning with this news. So he wasn't the cause of this—Remus' self-deprecation was just taking a new form. "So you're avoiding me?"

Remus scrubbed a hand over his face. "James was always your support system, Lily was someone you went to if you needed an ear… and I did those things too, but considering all the emotional baggage I've accumulated over the years, I'm just not sure I can be everything you need."

Sirius swallowed thickly. "I need you as much as I need them," he insisted. "Remus, I've missed you. Whatever we've gone through—and I know we've been through a lot—we can handle together, just like we used to."

Remus looked at him in disbelief. "We can't just… go back to the way things were. That's not going to work." He said it with so much certainty that Sirius flinched. "We've both changed, Sirius. That's not something we can just ignore."

"I know," Sirius replied hotly. He closed his eyes against the onslaught of images that flashed through his brain—_cold, Dementors, cell, trapped, trapped, trapped—_and swallowed thickly. "I know. But we can't just let that stop us from living. I've spent long enough stuck in one place," he added, a bit accusatory.

Remus grimaced at the reminder. "I haven't forgotten about that, Sirius," the werewolf said softly. "I just wonder if we wouldn't be tying ourselves down."

Walburga's words suddenly flashed through Sirius head. _There is no love._ He squared his shoulders; he _had_ loved Remus, those feelings hadn't been fake. He was ready to prove to anyone that he could feel that way again. "We raised each other up."

Remus looked away angrily, the most emotion Sirius had seen him display in fourteen years. "We were different men, then. Now what are we? Shells and shadows of our past selves. Maybe you can move past it, become someone again, but I… I can't."

"Why not? Why can't we help each other?"

"We're shattered glass, Sirius. We'll only cut each other to pieces."

Sirius was silent for a long moment. Finally, he spoke hoarsely. "I know I said that Harry was what kept me going there, and the fact that I was innocent… but it was the thought of you—the hope that I would see you again and make amends—that helped me through my years on the run. And I think you know that, deep down. I think you know, but you're afraid that I've put you on a pedestal that doesn't exist. That you'll disappoint me." Sirius took a deep breath. "I dunno, maybe that's true. Maybe I've hoped for things that aren't there. But you… you've always been able to make me happy, and dammit, Remus, that's what I want again. To have a _happy_ life—preferably one with you and Harry."

"I'm not sure I fit into Harry's life anymore, not in that way." Remus' voice was quiet, hesitant… pained.

Sirius leaned forward. "You heard me; don't change the subject. _You make me happy_, Remus. We've both been hurt… and we'll face that. But I want to do it with you."

Remus ran a hand through his hair. "It will be… difficult."

"Difficulty has never been a problem, has it?" Sirius laughed a bit, but it lacked its usual warmth. "Listen, it's up to you. If you still feel for me the way you did when we were nineteen at all, then tell me. And if you want to try again, then… then don't tell me you're not enough, because I think that's up to me to decide. I think you're bloody brilliant."

A small, almost sad smile played across Remus' features. "You always have," he admitted fondly. "I've missed you, too."

Sirius reached out and took his hand. "Could we try again, then?" he asked softly. "And do better?"

Remus studied him carefully. "You're sure you want to?"

Sirius let out a short laugh. "Hell, no. I don't know if I'll mess this up again. But when have the risks ever stopped me?"

Remus chuckled softly. "They never have." He raised a brow at Sirius. "But Sirius… I'm not exaggerating, you know. The years we lost… I can't change what happened during them, or how they changed me."

Sirius' eyes were steely as he answered. "Neither can I, Remus. We've been through two different hells. It's high time we climb out of them, isn't it?"

Remus stared at him for a long moment. "Merlin," he began hoarsely, "I've missed you so much."

Before Sirius could respond and explain how he felt some more—and maybe apologize because there was so much they had left unsaid—Remus continued after clearing his throat. "Why would you think that I couldn't stand the sight of you?"

It was Sirius' turn to avoid eye contact.

"Oh no. I know that look. What did you do?"

"I only spoke to her! And it's not like I really… believe what she was saying… but… I dunno."

Remus' eyes hardened. "Talked to who?"

Sirius balled his hands into fists. "My mother."

Remus laced their fingers together and was silent for a long time. "The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all."

Sirius looked up at him in confusion. "What the hell does that mean?"

Remus smiled softly. "Something my mother used to say. I can imagine the sort of things your mother tried to put in your head, and believe me when I say that they're not true. You've done great things in your life, Sirius."

Sirius closed his eyes. "She… she told me that I was even more miserable than I would have been if… if I listened to her, all those years ago."

He looked back up at Remus, who looked at him with sympathy and understanding. "I don't know what would have changed if you'd chosen a different path, Padfoot. But I do know that here, you don't have to be unhappy forever. Didn't we just decide to move forward together?"

Sirius relaxed. "Yeah… you're right."

The doubt was still there, but it was easier to push aside with Remus next to him. And as much emotional baggage as Remus claimed to have, Sirius had just as much—maybe they could help each other.

He looked at the scarred man lovingly. "Can we just… pick up where we left off?"

Remus hesitated. "I don't know. Can't we just take it slow this time?"

Sirius was about to protest, but then he thought again. This wasn't about him; it was about Remus. "Yeah. Anything you want, love."

Remus groaned. "Are we back to your pet names?"

"That was a neutral one!" Sirius protested, a grin on his face. "It wasn't that bad. You know you love me."

Silence followed his words, and Sirius immediately tried to back pedal. _Remus didn't feel the same. _"I meant—"

"Yeah, I do," Remus interrupted, his eyes daring his partner to argue with him. "But… one step at a time, Sirius. One step at a time."

Sirius grinned a bit sheepishly. "Yeah, of course."

Remus stared at him for a moment, almost in wonder. "It's good to have you back, Sirius."

Sirius came around the table and wrapped his arms around the other man. "It's good to be back."

He then bent down to brush his lips against Remus', shyly enough that it could have been their first kiss—and in many ways it was. But Sirius could feel a strength he hadn't felt since that fateful Halloween well up in him. It was invigorating, this feeling of belonging with someone. All his worries… for now, they took the back seat.

Remus pulled away after a moment. "Padfoot… I'm sorry for—"

"No, Moony," he cut in. "You don't need to apologize. We were both wrong, and it just doesn't matter any more. You were right, we can't get hung up on the past."

Remus shook his head and snorted, but he looked relieved. "Are you always going to use my words against me?"

Sirius grinned devilishly. "You better believe it, Lupin. You better believe it."

**A/N:**

**Writing Club:**

**Assorted Appreciation: 2. Klaus Mikaelson — Write about a werewolf or vampire**

**Disney Challenge: Dialogue 2. "The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all."**

**Showtime: 11. Made in America — (emotion) sympathy**

**Amber's Attic: Dialogue 11. "I don't think I'm better than you. I know I'm better than you."**

**Liza's Lyrics: 3. Backstreet Boys - As Long As You Love Me — "Don't care what is written in your history - as long as you're here with me."**

**Angel's Arcade: 13. Corypheus — (word) trapped, (pairing) RemusSirius, (title) The Darkness Wept**

**Lo's Lowdown: 5. (trait) reckless**

**Bex's Basement: 6. "You wouldn't know the truth if it danced naked in front of you doing the hula."**

**Film Festival: 29. (dialogue) "You know what else is interesting? Me on the moon." (5 bonus points)**

**Seasonal Challenges: **

**Days of the Year: 2nd April — Write about reconciling with someone**

**Spring: 9. (word) invigorating**

**Flowers: 5. Peony — (theme) reunion**

**Earth: 9. (word) solid**

**Amanda's Challenge: Pairings 2. Elizabeth of York/Prince Arthur — write about a mother/child dynamic**

**Hufflepuff Challenge: Traits 14. Sympathetic **

**Fortnightly Challenge:**

**Get Lei'd: Violet: 1. Sense**

**The World of Music: 7. Cajon — Write about someone feeling boxed in**

**Magic Kingdom: Main Street: 6. The Emporium — (dialogue) "You know you love me."**

**Gym: Madam Pomfrey: 2. "Oh no. I know that look. What did you do?"**

**365 Words: 16. Decade**

**Insane House Challenge: 268. "I need you as much as I need them."**


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